


Look Like a Movie

by allwaswell16



Series: When We Were Young [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American Harry Styles, American Louis, Awkward Flirting, Coming Out, Football | Soccer, Friendship, Grease References, High School Student Harry Styles, High School Student Louis, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, POV Harry Styles, Pining, Prequel, Prom, School Dances, Social Anxiety, Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Louis lights up Harry's world like nobody else. Harry just wishes he could be brave enough to ever ask him out. Although Harry's high school life is fraught with anxious encounters, he gets by with a little help from his friends.Or a prequel taking place ten years before 'Sound Like a Song.' Featuring school dances, soccer games, overeager lab partners, crushes, and being ten years too early for the love of your life.





	Look Like a Movie

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a prequel to the fic 'Sound Like a Song'. It takes place ten years before the events that take place in Sound Like a Song. Even though it's a prequel, I still intended for Sound Like a Song to be read first. But read whichever you like first, I suppose!

 

/// FALL ///

 

Lockers clang open and shut as Harry leaves the safety of his friends to head towards the east wing of the building. He knows he relies on them too much as a buffer to the rest of the world, but he has no idea how to change that at the moment. He sends a silent plea to the universe that Jessica won’t be standing at his locker when he gets there. As usual his pleas go unanswered.

He says nothing to the girl standing at her boyfriend’s locker next to his. When he reaches for his locker, he relies on muscle memory to open it. He knows if he thinks too hard on it, he’ll forget how to open it entirely. And that would just mean more minutes spent having to politely fend off the captain of the basketball team’s girlfriend.

“Hi, Harry!”

“Hi,” Harry mumbles in response. He doesn’t make eye contact and just takes out his Spanish binder and his AP Biology notes before the locker door gets slammed shut, nearly on his fingers.

“Oops, sorry!” Jessica claims with a giggle. He stands still for a moment, deciding whether it’s worth it to just leave his Calculus homework in there. No, it’s done, and he’s going to get the credit for it. He grits his teeth and again tries not to think about the combination as he spins the dial back and forth until he hears the tell-tale click of success.  “Wearing the black jeans today, I see. I’ll tell Mandi to mark it down.”

Harry says nothing about how Jessica and her friends keep track of what he’s wearing each day, just finds his homework and calmly relocks it before walking away quickly. He wishes he could brush off these encounters. He wishes they didn’t fill him with dread and anxiety.

Fucking high school.

///

Biology lab brings disaster. Harry’s just now starting to become more comfortable with his lab partner. It’s taken him a month to say more than a few words at a time. He’s been excusing his behavior because Erica is a bit intimidating. But today, Mr. Grimshaw has them complete a polygenetic trait lab. They’re just flipping a coin to determine traits for their imaginary child, but it’s all just making him feel uncomfortable.

“Harry, our kid would be adorable,” she says with a bright smile as they figure their results.

“Uh, I’m not sure you can really tell that based on these traits, but okay.”

Erica laughs. “Maybe not. But he’ll have your green eyes, which would be so lovely.”

Harry tries not to squirm at the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah, I don’t think Justin would love this lab we’re doing.” Maybe bringing up her boyfriend will help in distracting her.

Erica’s smile fades a bit. “Well, he’d know it was just a lab.”

“Right,” Harry agrees.

“Harry, can I ask you something?” He makes the mistake of making eye contact with her as she turns her head closer to his own.

He wants to answer no, but he realizes that’s not exactly an appropriate response. “Sure.”

“What do you think about Justin?”

Oh god. “Like what I know about him? Uh, he’s been your boyfriend for a while. He’s running for homecoming court. He plays football. I don’t really know him very well though. Seems okay.”

“Yeah,” she answers quietly. “He’s okay.”

Harry can tell she wants to continue this conversation, but this is not one he wants to have. She’s nice enough, respectful. Not like Jessica and her friends. But he is definitely not interested, and he does not want any part of being in the middle of a Justin and Erica breakup. Maybe he’s imagining her interest in him. Maybe this will all just go away. Justin and Erica will probably be named homecoming king and queen and maybe she won’t want to break up with the guy anymore. He can hope anyway.

///

A cacophony of voices greets him as he enters the large open spaces of the cafeteria. He bypasses the lines, carrying his sack of food from home. He’s never once in three years even considered going through the line. He makes his way to the back and into a smaller area, partitioned off partly with tan accordion doors. He’s never understood the purpose of such a functionless door, good only for dividing a space in the most rudimentary way. Why is he thinking about doors? This is why he’s so quiet, he tells himself, to avoid commenting on something as boring as doors.

He slides onto the bench across from Ed. He’s thankful he and his friends have claimed this small area for themselves, although he does still mourn the days when they had an open campus and could go out for lunch. Some days he would just go to the ice cream shop across the street and eat a giant chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich.

“Remember when we’d go to Whitney’s for lunch?” he says as he looks up at Ed.

Ed snorts. “Yeah, you always ate a Chipper.”

“Aw, man. Chippers!” Liam exclaims as he and Zayn take their seats at the table. “Remember Harry always eating Chippers, Z?

“He still eats Chippers,” Zayn states. “Just not for lunch anymore. Now he only eats rabbit food for lunch.”

“I have an almond butter sandwich for lunch today. How is that rabbit food?”

“Yeah, what else is in the bag, Harry?”

“Carrots and hummus.”

Zayn just raises an eyebrow. Whatever. So he has stopped eating meat. It’s not a big deal. He never really liked it in the first place, and now it just gives him the creeps a bit to eat it.

“You know I’m kidding, right? I don’t give a fuck what you eat.”

“You don’t give a fuck about anything,” Ed laughs. “Do you know he’s been wearing purple sweatpants to gym class?”

Zayn just shrugs. “They’re comfortable. And I lost my black ones. A fashionista, I am not. Course I don’t wear a uniform every day like Harry either.”

Harry sighs. Who knew wearing jeans, a concert t-shirt, and large blousy thrift store shirts every day would become a problem?

“They still keeping track then?” Liam asks gently.

Harry’s eyes cast down to the table. “I guess.”

“Yeah, I saw them being creeps about it already today,” Zayn says between mouthfuls. “Mandi had her notebook at first period, and Jessica had already seen you. Was she lying in wait at your locker again?”

“Yes.” The almond butter sticks in his throat a bit.

Liam’s eyebrows furrow together in concern. “Don’t worry, H. If Ben ever finds out, I got your back, okay? Doubles partners for life.” He holds out a fist for a fist bump.

Harry bumps his fist and smiles although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, Liam.” The thing is Liam could definitely take on one member of the basketball team. He may only play high school tennis, but outside of school Liam’s a prolific boxer. The problem lies in if it’s he and Liam versus the entire basketball team. He tries not to think about it. It won’t come to that, he tells himself. It’s not like Jessica actually wants to get caught. She’s content for now with just propositioning him when no one’s around. Well, and harassing him with her friends.

“Hi, Harry!”

The bright voice startles him. No one ever comes to this back corner besides him and his friends. They didn’t even notice anyone approaching. Everyone looks up at Erica, jaws slack.

“Uh, hi,” his voice rumbles out of him deeply. The dark depths of his own voice still surprises him sometimes. It seems to come out at odd moments and not of his own volition, almost as if it can sense his discomfort and hopes to disguise it.

A slight wash of pink crosses her cheeks as she looks at him and the smile on her face wavers, but she continues on. “Hey, guys. Didn’t know anyone sat back here.”

The three of them continue to stare at the alien invasion of their territory. Harry clears his throat to ward off any strange sounds. “Yeah, I guess we’re found out now.” He tries to make it sound like a joke, and he winces when it sounds more like an accusation.

“So um, would you mind lending me your Bio notes? The ones on our lab today. I think I lost mine,” she says. Three heads turn back to look at him. He doesn’t look back to see their expressions.

“Sure,” he answers. “I could just give them to you when I—“

“Oh, I’ll just give you my number, and you can text me your address. I’ll pick them up after volleyball.” She hands him a piece of paper with her phone number already scribbled across it. She’d walked up to them with it already written. Harry tries not to assume that means anything. He accepts the paper silently and nods.

She must decide that’s an assent to the plan because she waves and says goodbye, walking away from them with her usual bright smile spread across her pretty face.

“Did—“

“What—“

“Dude—“

“I know what you guys are going to say, but we’re just lab partners. And friends, I guess.”

“Right.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

A small silence descends over the table. This is not the first or last time he’ll wish to be invisible.

Finally, Ed speaks into the quiet. “You know we know, right? You don’t have to say anything, and I’m not saying we know everything. Just—we know something, okay? And we have your back.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly. They all go back to chewing their food in the odd stillness of a noisy room, muffled only by flimsy vinyl panels of a door that can’t truly keep anything out.

As Harry walks out of the cafeteria, the usual amount of dread follows behind him, awaiting the departure of his friends.

///

At a raucous table across the crowded room, a boy’s laughing blue eyes follow Harry’s exit. Just as they always do.

///

Calculus is Harry’s favorite class, and it’s not because he loves math. There are a few reasons, really. The teacher is quite nice and very helpful. Also, he gets to this class early enough that he can sit in the last row with his desk backed up against the wall. It’s really the only place in the room he can feel a modicum of comfort. It’s easier to go unnoticed with no one behind you. But if he was forced to give his honest answer, he knows it’s because of Louis Tomlinson.

Louis almost never makes it to class more than a few seconds before the bell, so he’s always forced to sit closer to the front of the room.  He always sits diagonally from Harry, and he turns around quite a lot to talk to his friends. What all this means is Harry has unfettered access to watching Louis’ every move. He studies the fringe of hair that Louis flicks across his forehead with practiced ease. He looks at the dips of Louis’ collarbones and imagines what they must taste like. He watches the fan of eyelashes strike a contrast against Louis’ tan skin. He eyes Louis’ powerful leg muscles, a byproduct of years of competitive soccer. Louis’ body may be a sin, but his face is wrought from an angel’s fingers. The slashing cheekbones, the entrancing blue eyes, the smattering of freckles across his cheek.

And while Harry most definitely appreciates Louis’ finer physical qualities, he also admires Louis’ inner attributes as well. His humor and kindness, his intelligence and empathy, his courage and composure, his confidence—well, he really was just someone you could sit and admire what he’s like.

That being said, the greatest thing Harry’s ever witnessed is Louis’ laugh. He throws his head back when he laughs as though his body can hardly contain it.  It seems to bubble up through him, and then, burst out like a soda bottle shaken up before it’s opened. His eyes crinkle nearly into slits, the blue irises losing way to the emotion that rolls out of him and a hand laying across his chest as if to hold back any further release.

Harry once made Louis laugh. He considers it to be one of his greatest life accomplishments. He distinctly remembers Ed not finding his joke all that funny, and the Letterman’s Club teacher mentor hadn’t been too pleased with the outburst. But other than that, it was the greatest day of his life. Louis had clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Pretty funny, Curly.”

That was the first time Louis touched him.

///

Harry isn’t the hugest fan of Letterman’s Club, but he _does_ play tennis and he _does_ have a varsity letter for it. He reminds himself that the more extracurricular activities he has, the better he looks for the college scholarships he’s after. It’s not that Letterman’s Club is so bad. They do service projects around the school and in the community, which is great, but it also means spending time with—jocks. Not really his favorite clique in school.

It’s nearing five o’clock when Harry pulls his beat up Corolla into the school parking lot for the Letterman’s Club meeting.  The FTWD MAC16 Illinois vanity license plates on his car had felt like the absolute best thing he’d ever heard of when he was sixteen. Of course, now he realizes it just makes his car more visible than he prefers. It’s their second meeting of the year, and they only meet monthly. Harry tries to be on time, but he’d been trying to finish writing an English essay and lost track of time.

As luck would have it, the soccer team must have just got out of practice and some of them are making their way from practice to the meeting. Harry stops and glances around as their cars drive up. He’s looking for Ed, so they can walk in together.

“You going in, or are you going to stay out here all night admiring your Fleetwood Mac license plates?”

Harry whirls around at the sound of the teasing voice of Louis Tomlinson. “I thought I’d wait for Ed.”

Harry can feel his face begin to burn with suppressed embarrassment at how beautiful Louis looks in a sweaty t-shirt and soccer shorts.

“Ed’s probably already inside. Only offense had to stay behind and run a few extra laps.”

“Why only offense?”

“Because we couldn’t score any goals against them in a play we were running. Niall was giving me major shit for it. He’s lucky he’s got Ed as sweeper though. Niall’s barely got to catch a damn thing in the goal.” Louis’ face brightens into a smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. Harry has to look away from the blinding light of it. He concentrates on not stumbling over his own feet as he and Louis walk into the building.

He hates that he has to tell himself things like breathe normally, don’t stumble, try to act normal. Why can’t these things just come naturally like they seem to for everyone else? It never works to even tell himself these things though. He’s not breathing normally, he’s already tripped a bit on an uneven part of the sidewalk, and in no universe is completely awkward silence the same as acting normal. Talk, he commands himself. Say something. Anything. “I hope there’s food.”

‘I hope there’s food?’ He wants to sink into the floor. Sure, he’s hungry. He forgot to eat something before he came to the meeting, but honestly, he’d rather Louis not see him eat. Too embarrassing. Besides, he’s been told he sticks his tongue out when he eats, which is beyond humiliating.

Even though he’s said what seems like the stupidest thing in the world, Louis responds quickly. “Me too. My tummy is growling. Came straight from practice obviously.”

Harry glances at Louis’ stomach where he’s got his hands clasped over it as though he’s starving. He called his stomach his tummy, and Harry wants to burst into flames until all that’s left is a pile of ashes. Harry would dearly like to see that tummy again. Sophomore year they’d had gym class together. The swimming unit had been both a fantasy and a nightmare. He’s pretty sure he’s never jacked off more in his life than the weeks of that gym unit. Stop thinking about Louis’ tummy, he orders himself.

As they enter the library where everyone is gathered, Harry immediately searches out Liam. Ed’s there as well. He could easily be sitting with his soccer teammates, but Ed would never make Liam sit alone. Harry smiles in relief that he has them to sit with. He heads over and sits down across from them at the small table. He doesn’t realize Louis has followed him until the chair next to him is pulled out, and Louis plops down into it. Louis smiles at them like it’s no big deal that he’s chosen to sit with him when all his friends are across the room when Coach Fallon enters with a stack of pizza boxes, some of the volleyball team trailing along behind him lugging cases of bottled water. Erica smiles in his direction, and he hopes it’s just a friendly smile.

Louis bumps his chair closer to Harry’s until his leg accidentally brushes alongside Harry’s. “Thank god, there’s food.” Louis says quietly into his ear.

A wave of desire washes over him. It seems to start in his fingertips and rush out through his toes. He tries to discreetly adjust himself under the table. He’s got to get ahold of himself before he has to get up from the table and go get a slice of pizza with a fucking hard on. He can’t even pretend not to be hungry when he’s already admitted he is to Louis. Think about physics, think about the Cubs, think about anything but Louis’ lips next to his ear.

Coach Fallon smiles a big friendly grin. “Okay guys! Come help yourselves to some pizza and water, and we’ll hammer out the details for this month’s service project as well as plan out a rough schedule for the rest of the school year.”

Nearly everyone stands up to quickly form a line to the pizza laid out on the tables in the front of the room. He’s glad Louis is in line behind him just in case his dick tries to humiliate him again. He tries to discreetly adjust and hopes no one is looking.

When he sits back down at the table, he tries to move his chair away from Louis’ a bit. It’s too unnerving to sit that close to him and try to eat, but when Louis sits, he scooches his chair right up against his again. Why must the universe torture him this way?

He tries his best to eat without sticking his tongue out first, but it’s hard to concentrate when Louis’ leg keeps touching his. He knows it’s probably just his overactive imagination, but he could swear Louis is watching him eat. God, why must just trying to eat be so nerve wracking? The only thing worse would be if his stomach started rumbling, so he forces himself to at least finish a piece.

At some point he glances up at Ed who waggles his eyebrows at him. Oh god. Is he really this obvious? Or is Ed just insightful? Probably both.

When Coach Fallon starts speaking again, he and Louis have to turn in their chairs to see him. Louis stretches out his arm, propping it on the back of Harry’s. Harry doesn’t hear a word Coach Fallon says. All he can concentrate on is the feeling of Louis’ fingers that brush accidentally against his back.

By the end of the meeting, his muscles feel tense from holding so still the entire time, trying not to react to Louis. He stands up and stretches a bit as people start filing out of the room. He notices Louis hanging back, waiting. Harry glances at him curiously before starting to walk out behind Ed and Liam towards the direction of the parking lot as Louis walks out with them as if this wasn’t the strangest thing imaginable.

“So Harry, you going to homecoming? I know you don’t usually go to dances, but it’s our senior year! Everyone should come!”

How does Louis know Harry doesn’t go to dances? What is with this day?

“Uh, I don’t know yet. I guess--maybe I’ll go this time. If my friends are going--”

“Well, you could ask someone to go with you.” Louis says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry barks out a laugh that’s too loud and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep any more from escaping. “Er, yeah. I can’t think of anyone to ask.”

“Well, I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding someone to go with you, Harry.” Louis pats him on the shoulder, and it feels like someone’s branded him with a hot iron. Louis is dangerous. This is too much power for any one man to have, Harry decides.

“Um, thanks.” He offers with as best a smile as he can manage.

“And well, I’m going, so you’d know _someone_ there. You can always hang out with us.”

Harry watches as a faint flush of pink floods Louis’ cheeks. He wonders why.

///

“So you think this looks okay?” Harry asks as he tries to straighten his tie. He doesn’t really love dressing up like this, but it _is_ a homecoming dance. He should try to look nice.

“Yeah, you look beautiful, H.” Ed teases. “Look, the girls and Matty won’t be in town for like another two hours. You want to go get something to eat?”

“Yeah. Taco Bell?”

“Dude. That shit is such garbage. How can you stand to eat there when you eat kale sandwiches and shit? Like how can you justify this abomination to Mexican food, Harold?”

Harry shrugs. “It’s not Mexican food. It’s fast food.”

“Fine. Get in the Fleetwoodmobile and let’s be on our way. Taco Bell, it is.”

They drive through Taco Bell and try not to spill on their nice clothes as they eat in the car in the parking lot.

“So like, thanks for doing this by the way.” Harry says in between bites of his bean burrito.

“What? Eating Taco Bell?”

“Shut up. You know what I mean. About finding us dates, so we could go.”

“No problem, H.” Ed says as he leans back. “You could have asked someone if you’d wanted. There were plenty of people who would have liked to, you know?”

“What? No. No, no, no. I’m not--interested in anyone who would have said yes anyway.”

Ed fakes coughs. “Louis Tomlinson.”

“What?” Harry squeaks. “Why would--he isn’t--I couldn’t--what are you even--”

“Damn. Calm down before you give yourself an asthma attack. All I’m saying is that if you’d asked him, I think he would have said yes. But you didn’t ask him, so now you’re stuck with me and Matty and a couple of college girls. Which would actually be super cool if you were into girls or whatever.”

“I--” Ed’s hinted about things before, but this is the first time he’s come out and said it. “It’s not that I’m not into girls, just--none of the girls I’ve ever met.”

“Are you into guys?” Ed asks curiously. “You don’t have to answer me by the way. Just if you want to.”

“Um. Well. Yeah. I am. And yeah, I’m not that into girls, I guess. How did you know I liked Louis?”

Ed snorts. “Subtlety is not your strong suit, Harry.”

“Oh god. Do you think he knows? This is so embarrassing. Fuck. I need to move far, far away now to a place where no one’s ever heard of a Louis Tomlinson.”

“I don’t think he’s at all certain of you. But he definitely wants you back.”

“Why do you think that? Seems pretty fucking unlikely that Louis’ even gay, he’s always dating some pretty girl. And even if he was, he’s way off the charts for me on like a social level.”

“I think Louis likes you because he’s about as subtle as you are. And before you ask, no I don’t think other people notice it as much. Mostly because they’re all trying to either get in your pants or his pants, and they don’t want to think about how you’re both trying to get into each other’s pants.”

It gives Harry something to think about as they head back to Ed’s house to wait for Matty and the girls. They’re coming from their university about an hour away.

There’s an oddly obnoxious knocking happening on Ed’s front door, almost as if someone is trying to tap out the rhythm to a drum solo. When Ed flings open the door, Matty dramatically falls through the doorway.

“Hey, Ed. Harry.” Matty waves from the floor. “This is Ellie and Molly. My--friends.”

Matty waggles his eyebrows, and Harry has the distinct feeling that Matty is hoping to be more than friends with one or both of these girls. Harry gives him a hand to help him up.

The girls look nice in short, colorful dresses. Their large metallic necklaces and cuff bracelets make them look more trendy than most of the girls he knows. He’s very glad to be going with friends and girls with zero expectations of him. It’s so much less stressful.

The school gymnasium is decorated with a Grease theme; there are 50’s era decorations and even a fake Greased Lightning car that he knows Zayn helped create. A few people dressed the part, but most just came in nice dresses or ties and dress pants.

He sees Niall and notices he’s dressed as a T-bird along with another guy from the soccer team. He turns back to Ed, who looks alarmed. “Uh, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I may have forgotten to tell you something that you may need to prepare yourself for.”

“Okay.” Harry responds, but his heart is pounding and he thinks he already knows.

Ed pulls him off to the side and talks in a quiet tone. “Um. Some of the guys from the soccer team were going to dress up as the T-birds and uh--yeah. Louis is coming as Danny Zuko. Meant to tell you before. Sorry.”

Okay. Harry is okay. He’s fine really. Everything is fine. Louis is just dressed up as one of Harry’s number one fantasies. It will be fine.

It’s not fine. He’s not sure which would be worse, Louis dressed up in a black suit with a pink shirt or in a white t shirt and a black leather jacket.

When he sees him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. Now he knows what would be worse than either of those looks. Louis in a tight black t shirt and slim fitting black pants, his hair slicked up into a quiff. He nearly swallows his own tongue.

He coughs to disguise his discomfort, and Ed pats him kindly on the arm. “Can hardly blame you, really. The guy looks pretty good all cleaned up.”

“Oh god. I’m sweating. This is so embarrassing.”

“Are you going to pass out? Do you need me to slap you?” Ed asks with a laugh.

“I mean, probably.” Harry says as he tries to discreetly wipe the sweat off his face. “I think I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

Ed gives him a sympathetic smile as Harry races off to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He hears someone enter the bathroom just as he splashes the water, and he knows. He has the worst luck in the world, which means Louis Tomlinson has just walked in. He’s dripping into the sink and wants to grab a paper towel, but Louis is standing directly in front of them.

“Um, I need a--could you hand me--er I just need--”

“A paper towel?” Louis asks with a smirk on his face. He pulls a few from the dispenser and hands them over.

Harry quickly wipes his face as long as possible hoping Louis will just--go away. Or go take a piss. Or whatever he came in here to do. Louis just stands there, watching him.

“So you actually came to a dance, Styles. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Uh, yeah. I came. We just got here actually, so I should probably--”

“Yeah, I saw you walk in with a couple people, wasn’t sure which one was your date.”

Harry chooses not to answer the unasked question. “So you’re here with Emily then?”

Louis offers him a small smile. “Yeah. We choreographed a dance to _Born to Hand Jive._ I don’t know if you’ve ever seen Grease, but--”

“Yeah, I have! I love that movie, actually. That’s pretty cool that you’re going to do that.” Harry just admires Louis so much. He can’t imagine going out there to perform a dance in front of everyone purposely so that they would want to watch. He wants to dance, but he’d rather no one watch if he’s honest.

“Well, just make sure you stay long enough to see it, okay?” He has no idea why Louis would care. He doesn’t for a second believe Ed’s wishful thinking about them.

“Emily is really the perfect Sandy.” Harry says a bit wistfully. He clears his throat. “Um, yeah. I’ll definitely stick around to watch that. Well, I should probably--”

Harry motions towards the door and squeezes between Louis and the sink to make his way out of the bathroom.

As it turns out, Harry actually really enjoys the dance. He dances with Ellie and Molly and even just Matty, and sometimes they just all danced as a group. And for the first time in a long time, he just lets himself be young and free. He takes photos with each of the girls in front of the Grease themed backdrop. He takes a fake serious posed one with Matty with Matty standing behind him with his arms wrapped around him. It’s especially funny considering their height difference. He manages to keep a straight face before collapsing into gales of laughter with Ed. He and Matty jump into the foam and cardboard Greased Lightning car and have Ed take more photos of them, which is when he notices a blue eyed stare from the drink table.

He can’t quite read Louis’ expression from here, but he looks tense as Harry returns his stare. Someone says something, but he doesn’t hear them. Louis is just too damn mesmerizing. Emily walks up to Louis, a bright smile on her face, and puts her hand on his shoulder. Louis looks back at her, and the spell breaks.

Harry takes a breath and pretends his friends aren’t looking at him curiously. He clambers out of the car and offers to take photos of the rest of them. A minute later, he hears the tell tale opening of _Born to Hand Jive,_ and his eyes search out Louis as a crowd begins to form around him and Emily.

Louis is just breathtaking. Harry is drawn in and pushing his way to the edge of the circle, so he can have a better view. Harry can feel his face drawn into an involuntary smile, the kind that always appears when Louis is nearby. It feels like Louis has his own gravitational pull, and he and all these other fools are just orbiting around him as if he’s the sun. Never able to get any closer, but not able to move any further away.

///

Harry spends the rest of the fall concentrating on his school work and applying for scholarships. These are things he can control. He can keep straight As if he works hard enough. He can get accepted to all these universities he’s applied to if he just phrases these essays perfectly. And he can get it all paid for if he can properly impress an interview team. These are the things he’s good at. These are the things that he can feel pride in.

It helps. It really helps when other things seem difficult and awkward. Erica spent weeks after homecoming being so strange about seeing him at the dance with college girls. She doesn’t even know which one to be jealous of, and Harry feels an urge to tell her that of the group, he found Matty the most attractive. He doesn’t say it though. She gets over it enough to start confiding in him again about her relationship issues with Justin.

For now Erica seems like less of a problem than Jessica and her shitty friends. They’ve gotten less careful, and it feels like more and more people know about the whole what-clothes-he-wears-everyday thing. He refuses to back down though. It wouldn’t even matter. They’d just find some other way to torture him. It would probably just make everything a bigger deal if he wore something else.

One of the best bright spots is that soccer season is well underway, and he has a legitimate reason to watch the games. He drags Liam and Zayn to every game to watch Ed. And really, Ed is a fucking amazing soccer player. He and Niall are quite the defensive duo, and so far the team is undefeated thanks in part to no goal being scored while Ed is on the field. The few goals that have been scored against them have been when Ed was on the sidelines. But of course, Harry has a bit of an ulterior motive for attending every game.

There’s another reason their team is undefeated. Their offense is unmatched due in large part to the graceful play of a certain striker. The way Louis can outmaneuver his opponents with the lightest of touches on the ball--well, it’s absolutely spectacular. The way he moves is as lyrical as a Shakespearean sonnet.

The regional game against their crosstown rival is unfolding as predicted; they’re up 3-0 with only a few minutes left in the game when Steve in the midfield crosses the ball to Louis in front of the goal. Louis dribbles past a defender, and the keeper makes a decision to come out of the goal in an attempt to stop Louis from scoring again. The keeper makes a dive at the ball just as Louis takes a shot and takes Louis’ legs out from under him, sending him flying back hard onto the ground. The ball sinks right into the corner of the net for yet another goal for Louis, and the crowd’s excitement causes a few moments of confusion before anyone realizes Louis is still on the ground.

Harry’s later can’t recall how he got down from the stands and onto the field. He knows he never watched that ball go into the net because he was watching Louis and not the ball. He saw him go down and not come back up and however his brain and his feet managed to coordinate without his will he doesn’t know, but he finds himself kneeling down next to Louis just after the coach and trainer have got to him.

Louis’ eyes fly open and blue meets green. Harry feels like his heart had stopped and now beats again.

“Did it go in?” Louis asks him.

“The ball? Yeah, Lou. I--think it went in.”

The trainer shushes them, so he can have Louis complete a concussion test. The coach is looking at Harry strangely, which is when Harry realizes how this all might look to the hundreds of people in the stands, and quite frankly, he wishes he could just not turn around and see them all looking.

“Um, we’re friends?” He says weakly to the coach, who raises an eyebrow as though he isn’t quite buying what Harry is selling here. Especially when Louis reaches out and grabs his arm.

“Don’t go.”

“Um, I think I--probably--”

“Louis, I’m going to send you to the doctor now.” The trainer is telling him. “I see your mom coming down from the stands now, so we’re going to go get you checked out.”

Harry stands and backs away a bit as Louis’ mom has made her way to them. She eyes him curiously, and he offers her the same weak smile before he makes his way off to the side of the bleachers, not daring to look up at any one in the stands. When he’s out of eyesight he makes a break for his car and sits in it, waiting for Liam and Zayn to figure it out and meet him there.

They’re good friends. They make it to his car after only a few minutes. They find him resting his head on the steering wheel.

He glances over as Zayn plops into the passenger seat with a huge grin on his face. “So?”

“What?” Harry bites out, tersely.

“Oh. My. God.” Liam says as he throws himself into the back seat and slams the door shut. “YOU HAVE A MASSIVE CRUSH ON LOUIS TOMLINSON! You’re like--in love with him or something. YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH LOUIS TOMLINSON!”

“Jesus, Liam! Shut the fuck up!” Harry says as he sits up and looks out the car windows as though someone will hear them. The windows are closed though and not many people have left the stadium yet anyway. He lets his head rest again on the steering wheel and accidentally honks the horn with his elbow. It lets out a loud blare that makes them all jump.

Zayn and Liam laugh hysterically, and Harry can feel his face heat with embarrassment as he quickly puts the car in reverse to get them the fuck out of there.

As they drive towards Liam’s house, it’s fairly quiet in the car again. Fall Out Boy plays on the radio as he pulls into Liam’s driveway. He looks over at Zayn who just looks back at him curiously.

“How did I not see this before now?” Zayn wonders.

“Well, I wasn’t even sure he liked boys before now!” Liam exclaims. “Like I thought maybe, but I wasn’t sure.”

Harry feels panic welling up in his chest. Is everyone going to realize now that he’s--not straight? He tries to take a deep breath, but it comes out more like a wheeze. And this is all added to his worry over how Louis is doing. He has no way to even find out. Maybe Ed will know.

“Harry? Are you okay?” Zayn asks as he peers at him with concern.

“Not really.”

Liam pushes himself forward into the space between the front seats. “Hey, now. You know I like don’t care you like boys, right? So are you gay then? Or bi? Did you always know or not until you saw Louis? Which that would have been like a couple years ago--”

Zayn slaps him upside the head. “Liam, what the fuck? Just stop.”

Zayn turns back to Harry. “Listen. I can see you’re worried and probably like imagining yourself driving off and never coming back, so I just want to make sure you know that like, yeah maybe we can see it now. But that doesn’t mean everyone will.”

“Well, Louis will.” Harry grumbles.

“Luckily, Louis probably has a concussion.” Liam pipes up. “Maybe he won’t remember!”

They both glare at Liam. “What? What’d I say now?”

“Harry. Look, if you ever want to talk about shit, I hope you know I’m around.”

“Thanks, Z. I’m not sure I’m ready to--”

“Well, you can talk to me, too!” Liam insists. “I could talk about stuff like this! Like--I dunno. If I was gay, I’d probably go for Tommo, too. Got really pretty eyes. Really good at soccer and baseball.”

He and Zayn both stare at Liam.

“What? I’m just saying if you’re going for a boy, he’s like a good choice, I think. He seems nice, too. I guess that’s important.”

“Uh, thanks, Li. I’ll--um--let you know if I want to talk about it.”

Liam grins from ear to ear. “Great! I support you, Harry!”

Zayn cackles as he opens the car door. “Well, now we know what’s important to Liam. Pretty eyes, good at sports, and nice.”

Harry turns the car off, feeling a bit more comfortable, at least enough to hang out at Liam’s house for awhile. He’s still worried about Louis though. He and Liam climb out, too, and head into the house with Zayn.

“Hey!” Liam says. “I think that’s a good list!”

///

Harry honestly has no idea what to expect when he arrives at school on Monday. He’d pretended to be sick on Friday, so his mom would let him stay home. He’s not sure if that was a good strategy or not. It either fanned the flames of gossip, or people will forget about it. He heard from Liam that Louis hadn’t been in school either, which obviously made sense given that he had a concussion. He didn’t quite have the courage to call Ed and ask about Louis though.

He’s not sure if he’s paranoid or not, but it sure seems like it fanned the flames. He walks quickly through the halls, and he could swear people are looking at him. At least Jessica isn’t lying in wait today. By lunch, he knows it’s not just his imagination. At least no one has said anything yet though.

As he starts walking to their back corner of the cafeteria, he sees Louis get up from his table and start walking towards him. His blood starts thumping through his veins, adrenaline shooting through him as though he could somehow outrun all this. He can see people taking notice. He’s not sure if the buzzing he hears is the noise of people talking or something strange happening to his brain.

Louis is smiling. It lights up his whole face, eyes crinkling in the corners. It blinds Harry with its brightness. How does he do this? Harry feels like the whole room’s atmosphere has lifted. It’s like magic, and Louis has them all spellbound.

“Hey, H! I was going to ask you about what Coach Fallon was telling us at Letterman’s about setting up Christmas carols at nursing homes. I know you’re on the committee, so I was hoping you could put my grandma’s nursing home on the list.”

“Sure, Louis.”

“Thanks!” Louis beams and pats Harry on the shoulder. “I’ll get you the info in calculus.”

Louis starts to walk back towards his table when Harry hears it.

“So you gay now, Tommo?”

Harry’s not sure who says it, but he freezes. He watches Louis’ head whip around towards the voice. There’s no way he knows who said it either, but the cafeteria quiets down more than Harry has ever heard it be.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m bi. You got a problem with that?”

In one swift barage of movement the entire soccer team stands up from Louis’ table all at once, glaring in the direction of whoever said it. The entire cafeteria turns back around and starts talking and eating again. Louis shoots him a small, sideways look. Harry can’t read it really, but he thinks he’s checking to make sure he’s alright. Louis just came out to hundreds of people in the cafeteria, and he’s watching Harry for a reaction. Harry feels like he’s been submerged in water, walking in slow motion, limbs heavy.

The soccer team is still standing, apparently taking no chances that their leader will be confronted again.

“Lou!” Niall calls out from their table, a look on concern on his usually sunny face. Louis looks over at Niall and turns back towards his table. He looks back once at Harry. His look is a question that Harry doesn’t know the answer to.

 

/// WINTER ///

 

Winter winds howl and rattle Harry’s little Corolla as he drives it through the snowy streets. The car has a low center of gravity though which makes it good for keeping it upright, not like the few cars he sees in the ditch on the way to school.

Harry doesn’t care for the cold, so he always dresses warmly for it. A big bomber jacket that was his dad’s, thick handmade woolen gloves, and an olive colored hat his grandmother knitted him years ago. The only real color in his outdoor gear is a soft, blue scarf that he picked out himself. The only thing he really enjoys about winter is being able to wear all the boots he owns.

He’s definitely in the minority. The halls are filled with people without coats or getting by with a sweatshirt. Harry’s not sure why dressing warmly is somehow uncool, but he really does not give two fucks about looking uncool as long as he’s warm.  

He turns the corner and trudges towards his locker when he sees Louis in a giant puffed coat. It looks like he’s about to brave the Arctic. Louis is laughing as Niall pokes him.

“Can’t feel that at all, Nialler! Try harder.” Louis seems to do a double take as he spots Harry. “Don’t know why you don’t wear a real coat when it’s fucking ten degrees out. Right, Styles?”

Louis has his hand up for a high five, so Harry nervously slaps his hand with his own. It was a little tentative, and he wishes he could rewind a few moments and redo it. But he spends the rest of the day with a ridiculous smile on his face whenever he remembers it.

///

When Letterman’s Club tours nursing homes, singing Christmas carols, Louis thanks him for putting his grandmother’s nursing home on the list. He stays by Harry’s side for most of the outing and sings in the sweetest voice Harry’s ever heard. Harry secretly feels like their voices sound really well together. Liam and Ed make embarrassing thumbs up signs to him whenever Louis isn’t looking as if Louis being appreciative about his grandmother is a sign of anything more. Harry just rolls his eyes at them.

///

When school lets out for the winter holidays, Harry has a small pang of loss at the thought of two weeks without seeing Louis. He scolds himself for being so ridiculous about his crush, but he can’t help but think of Louis on Christmas Eve and wonder what he’s doing. Ed’s told him that Louis doesn’t usually celebrate his birthday too much because of Christmas, and Harry wishes he could do something for him. Someone as special as Louis deserves something amazing for his eighteenth birthday. Some spectacular party to celebrate how much joy Louis brings to the world. Harry groans and flings himself on his bed at how absurd he’s let his feelings for Louis get.

He tries to stifle his groans later that night as he fantasizes about what it would be like to be with Louis. To strip him naked in his room. To finally get to touch his bare skin. To reverently brush his fingertips over Louis’ lips, the dips of his collarbones, the hard planes of his chest, down his taut stomach. He imagines himself finally working his way down to Louis’ cock and wrapping his fingers around it as he tastes something he’s wished to for quite some time. He tries to imagine what Louis would sound like with his dick in Harry’s mouth, and it takes a very embarrassingly few strokes of his hand before Harry is coming all over himself at the thought.

 

/// SPRING ///

 

This year spring brings forth the sense of an ending rather than a renewal for Harry. He can feel the anticipation of hundreds of seniors beginning to feel as though high school now has a finish line they can see. There’s both excitement and dread that pumps through Harry at the thought of leaving this all behind him, of starting fresh somewhere else where no one knows how awkward he always feels.

Maybe college will be different. He had plenty of choices when it came to colleges, good scholarships at quite a few. And while Harry has always been ambitious when it comes to academics, what his goal has always been is to be a teacher. He’s had a number of people try to talk him out of it as though it was a waste of Harry’s intellect to consider teaching small children, but he’s never felt more comfortable as he does working with children. He knows it’s the right thing for him, so he forgoes the prestige of an Ivy League school for a good state one. If anything, Harry’s always been practical.

When tennis season starts up, he lets himself breathe and enjoy his final season. Even Liam lightens up a bit with it all. It’s not as though they’ll be contenders for state, so it’s more about the camaraderie of it. Well, that and the fact that the tennis courts are next to the baseball fields. He convinces Liam to wear matching snapbacks with him during their doubles matches, and even their coach cracks a smile about them.

From here he can watch Louis in all his baseball glory, pitching to Niall’s catcher’s mitt as though they can read each other’s minds. They’ve played together so long, it probably really does feel that way to them. It’s quite something that Louis could be going anywhere to play baseball, but instead, he’s choosing to follow his passion and keep playing soccer. Harry wishes he was privy to Louis’ dreams. He wonders what his plans are or even if a boy who burns as brightly as Louis does even needs plans in the way that Harry does. Louis has always reminded Harry of the brightest of meteors, burning across the atmosphere, glowing through the darkest night sky.

Spring also brings more of the same bullshit it always does. Prom. Honestly, Harry had such a good time at homecoming with his friends and actual strangers than a date that he doesn’t even want to go to prom and ruin the memories he has of high school dances. It’s not to be.

Later, it will enrage Harry that he’s tried his best to go unnoticed while somehow still being himself and that has only brought him unwanted attention that he neither wanted nor feels he deserved.

Fucking prom.

He hears the first rumors from Ed.

“Did you hear Erica broke up with Justin?” Ed asks as he bites into a slice of cafeteria pizza.

Harry stares at the pizza. It looks like tomato sauce and cheese on a piece of cardboard. “I don’t know how you can eat that shit.”

Ed shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

Zayn nudges his shoulder. “I think you should be--careful or whatever.”

“What?” Harry asks. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means when Justin finds out she broke up with him for you, you need to be careful.”

Fucking hell. His nerve endings begin to fire, leaving a prickly feeling in his fingertips. “What makes you think she broke up with him for me? I mean, yeah, we’re friends or whatever, but I try to make it clear that’s all we are--”

“I don’t think she gets the message.” Liam gives him a pained smile. “I heard her talking about you in Calculus the other day. How she was going to take her chances. And how she thinks you’re going to ask her to prom.”

“Jesus Christ. What is wrong with everyone?” Harry demands loudly. “When have I ever given the slightest hint that I wanted to ask her to do jack shit with me?”

“Listen, H. We know.” Ed gives him a reassuring nod.

“I really don’t think it’s about you giving mixed signals. I think it’s just about people wanting to get a look at the goods.” Zayn says.

Harry chokes on the carrot he’s eating, and they all burst out laughing.

“I’m just saying, they all seem to know Harry is packing down there.” Zayn goes to punch him in the balls, but Harry maneuvers out of the way.

“Well, I’m not gonna lie. I am pretty blessed.” Harry smirks.

This sets them off on another round of laughter until tears form in the corners of their eyes, which all die a quick death when they hear a voice.

“What are you guys laughing about?”

And there she is. Erica. A pretty heart shaped face, lovely waves of dark hair, big brown eyes. She should be all that’s right, but she is all that’s wrong.

“Uhhh--”

“Umm--”

“Errrr--”

“Nothing.” Harry replies, stifling a sigh. “Just stupid, inappropriate jokes.”

“Okay--” Erica smiles uncertainly at them this time. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come over and study for our Biology test tonight.”

“Can’t.” Harry says maybe a bit too happy to have an excuse. “I’ve got a tennis meet. And anyway, I think I’m good on this unit in Biology anyway.”

“Oh. Okay.” Her disappointment is palpable, but Harry has the uncomfortable feeling this isn’t the end of this.

///

As Harry plays his match that night, a familiar face stands near the bleachers in his baseball practice gear, watching. He cheers with Liam and Ed who are watching the match when Harry wins.

He offers a high five as Harry comes off the court. “Nice work, Styles!”

Harry feels his cheeks warm with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. Liam offers Ed a ride home and suddenly he’s standing alone with Louis. He’s reminded of what probably awaits him from Erica, and part of him desperately wants to just ask Louis to prom. It wells up inside him, threatening to burst forth. It feels like he’s never wanted anything this much, and yet it comes with such huge consequences. For him to do this would be big, a confirmation at least to Louis that he’s not straight. And if Louis were to accept--well, then that would mean a scene of epic proportions. Heads turning, whispers, maybe more than just whispers. Louis may have come out, but it’s not the same as going to prom with a boy.

Louis isn’t a mind reader though, and he must have no clue of the internal struggles of Harry’s mind right now. Or maybe he does because what he says is, “So you going to prom then, Styles? Did homecoming prove to you that school dances could be fun?”

He wants to say, _yes when you dress up as Danny Zuko and dance_. But what he does say is, “Ehm--I--it was fun. So I--might go. If I can--if I manage to ask--anyone.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about anyone saying yes, Styles. You should just ask whoever you want.”

“That’s your advice then?”

“Yep.” Louis grins.

“Did you take your own advice and ask whoever you wanted then?”

“Nope.”

“Heyyyy.”

“Emily asked me. So I didn’t really get a chance to ask--”

“Her?”

“Ask who I wanted to ask.” Louis clarifies.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so anyway, you should go. It’s like a rite of passage or whatever. Might even have fun.” Louis claps him on the shoulder. “Well, see ya around, Styles. Good match by the way.”

“Thanks.” Harry says as he watches Louis walk away.

He sits in his car for a moment, staring at the steering wheel. There’s an unsettled feeling in his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with. He flips through his CDs, looking for the right Fleetwood Mac song to blast and sing along. Maybe he’ll go take a drive out into the country before it gets too dark. But none of them seem right. None of them really fit.

He starts the car and heads away from the neighborhoods and businesses and schools and towards the farms on the outskirts of town. He flips through the stations until he hears Elton John singing about the blues.

“Just stare into space. Picture my face in your hands. Live for each second without hesitation. And never forget I’m your man.” Harry sings, the windows open as he winds through gravel roads.

///

The next day Erica corners him after Biology. She very nervously asks him to go to prom. As friends, she assures him. Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like he has much of a choice. She’s broken up with her boyfriend, and now she has no one to take her. He heard Justin asked a sophomore cheerleader to go. He chews his lip for a moment before he assents.

///

As prom draws nearer, Erica acts more and more like she didn’t ask him as a friend. She calls a lot. She wants to come pick out his tux with him. She walks with him in the hallways. The only good part about it is that Jessica and her friends leave him alone for the most part.

He’s more than a little grateful when Liam asks one of Erica’s friends to prom, so they can all go together. Relief floods through him when Liam tells him.

He and Liam show up at Erica’s with corsages for their dates and take the required photographs standing in front of Erica’s house. He feels a little badly that Erica is going with him when she could have gone with her high school boyfriend and had it mean something. Instead, she’ll have to look back on these pictures with him in it. Well, it’s her own damn fault.

Liam’s such a good sport about it all. He keeps the conversation flowing throughout dinner and drives them all in his dad’s BMW. He blasts music and drives too fast and keeps a permanent grin on his face.

When they get to the dance, Erica mostly talks with her friends, leaving Harry to Liam.

“Well, it’s not terrible, is it?” Harry says to Liam.

Liam laughs. “Ringing endorsement.”

Harry blushes a bit. “Well, I didn’t exactly want to come.”

“Yeah, you did.” Liam grins knowingly and waggles his eyebrows. “Just with someone else.”

“Shut up, Liam.”

“Speak of the devil…”

Harry whips around to watch Louis and Niall descend the stairs onto the ballroom floor wearing pastel tuxedos. He’s fairly certain the entire room just sighed in unison at the sight of Louis in a pale pink tuxedo jacket and Niall in a baby blue one. They’ve meant it to be funny, but the odd thing is that they can both pull it off. So instead of looking absurd, they look amazing and handsome and infinitely cooler than Harry could ever hope to be. Their dates trail along behind them, clearly not fussed at all about their dates’ choice of evening wear.

As they arrive at the last step, Louis begins scanning the crowd. Harry’s heart beats out of rhythm wondering who he’s looking for. Probably his friends, his head tells him, but his heart clings to a small hope that he’s looking for him.

When their eyes meet, Louis smiles widely enough that his eyes crinkle in the corners in the loveliest of ways before he’s surrounded by people all wanting his attention. It’s just the briefest of moments that happens so quickly Harry can’t be sure it was real. He hopes he smiled back, but he honestly doesn’t know.

///

As Harry dons his graduation gown and places his cap atop his head, he can’t help but wonder what the legacy of his high school years will be. He wonders if in ten years time he’ll still be friends with Zayn and Ed and Liam. He wonders if he’ll ever see Louis beyond today.

In some ways, Harry has always been independent and thought of as the mature one, but he’s always felt like a bit of a fraud because in reality, it’s more that he’s just scared. There’s always been a sense of caution weaving through Harry’s life. His choice of career, his choice of college, his friends, the sport he plays, his chosen activities. He wonders if he’ll ever break free of it.

He watches Louis cross the stage at graduation in all his golden glory. Louis never plays it safe, and for that he will always have Harry’s admiration. He watches Louis walk out of his life and into his future, one gleaming so brilliantly it hurts to look at him. It seems naive to believe there won’t be someone else just as breathtaking as Louis somewhere, someday, but right now, Harry can hardly fathom that there’s another person on earth who shines as brightly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it! You can reblog [this fic post for this fic](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/165727723326/when-we-were-young-series-by-allwaswell16-24k) and I will love you forever! <3 <3
> 
> Thank you taggiecb for always holding my hand and pushing me!


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